


Where do we begin?

by allalrightagain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Battle of Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allalrightagain/pseuds/allalrightagain
Summary: The Wizarding world began to rebuild in the days following the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry took a moment to have a much needed conversation.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Andromeda Black Tonks
Kudos: 19





	Where do we begin?

**Author's Note:**

> All characters and contexts belong to JKR, title comes from Sick of Losing Soulmates by dodie.  
> Black Lives Matter, Trans rights are human rights.

Andromeda opened her door to Harry Potter, standing sheepishly on the front step. 

“Hi Mrs. Tonks. Can I come in?” 

She eyed him warily. He looked older than she expected, though still clearly school-aged, with dark circles under his eyes. Had she and Ted really been this young when they'd had Nymphadora? It seemed so long ago. “Potter. On the night we first met, what did my daughter look like?” 

Potter's brow furrowed. “Er... she looked like me, didn't she?” he asked. “She wasn't there, but Tonks should have looked like me.” 

With a curt nod, she opened the door wider in invitation. “I hope the Ministry is not sending you around as an errand boy where an owl was previously deemed sufficient only three days ago?”

It had been hard enough receiving the initial paperwork from the Auror's office, just an impersonal owl rapping at the window while she tried to get the baby to sleep. If she had to keep her emotions in check while Harry Potter himself told her of some other form that absolutely must be filled out properly in an appropriate color of ink, she just might slam the door in his face.

“Oh. No, I wanted to, er, see Teddy?” He shifted hesitantly, “and talk to you about him? I tried to catch you at Hogwarts, but we seem to keep missing each other.”

“Of course,” she led him out of the entryway and into the sitting room. Gesturing for him to sit on the very same couch he had once lay unconscious on— on the first and only occasion of them meeting— she said, “Please, have a seat. Teddy is asleep at the moment, but you are welcome to get the talking portion over with in the meantime.” 

The boy wore dress robes, but kept fiddling with them like he wasn't quite used to how they fit. Ted had done this too, after school, stuck between a Muggle upbringing and a magical adulthood and unsure of which he really was yet.

Potter fiddled with his wand for a moment before pocketing it and placing his hands securely on his knees. “Thank you for taking care of him.” 

What right did he have to thank her for that? “I’m his grandmother.” She said firmly. “I hardly think it necessary to thank me for doing my duty as such.” 

“That's just it. I know family sometimes... gets kids they didn’t want,” he said, “So if you don’t want to raise him, if you think it will hurt too much to look at him and think of your husband, or Tonks– Dora, I’d be happy to.” 

“To raise my grandson?” Andromeda laughed sharply. “You’re still a child yourself.”

Potter's face lit up with determination. “Lupin and Tonks made me godfather and I want to be a good one.”

Oh, how she had argued with them over that. No matter her complaints about appointing a seventeen year old celebrity as a potential guardian in the middle of a war, they had been so sure it was the right choice. And now they weren't even here to listen to her _I told you so_. 

“Being a good godfather is more than removing a child from an abusive household.” She told him. “Are you prepared to take on the burdens of parenthood? To give up your life for a child you've never met?”

“I already have given up my life for him, and for the rest of the Wizarding world!” Potter said sharply. “I have money, a house, and more time left than I ever expected to get. I don’t know a lot about babies, but I can figure it out.” 

There it is, Andromeda thought. That Gryffindor need to be a martyr and still forge ahead that had so impressed Nymphadora.

“I wouldn't have guessed it, but you are a lot like Remus,” she said. 

The fierceness in his face broke into bewilderment. “I am?” 

She smiled tightly. “I didn’t know him much before this last year, but Remus used to make that very same face when Dora so much as sneezed. Of course, a sneeze from Nymphadora could bring half the house down if she was pointed in the wrong direction, so I suppose the concern was warranted.” 

“I didn’t know him well either.” Potter said quietly. 

“No, I suppose you wouldn't have,” said Andromeda carefully. “For the record, Potter, I do think that, had he been able, Remus would have taken you in in a heartbeat.”

The scoff came out of Potter before he could hold it back. “He ran away when he found out he was having his own kid. Oh.” He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. “Did you–? I don’t know if you ever–“

Andromeda sighed softly. “I did know about that, yes. I can recall exactly what sort of state he was in when he came back here. As for what he said, well that’s between Remus and Dora. And, I suspect,” she said as she met Harry's eye, “you.” 

Potter tore his gaze away. “Wars leave behind orphans. I didn't want Teddy to have to— I know how it feels to be one of those kids. I wasn't going to just let Remus leave him behind.”

She watched the boy fiddle with a loose thread and considered for a second reaching out before thinking better of it. “There is no outthinking Death—“ she told him, and when she saw him flinch, added smoothly, “nor winning over a Gryffindor aching for a fight— but I am sure he was thankful for every one of those additional moments.” 

A cry from the downstairs bedroom made Potter jump. Andromeda hesitated, thinking about letting him _figure out_ a crying infant, but stood and said, “Stay here, I'll only be a moment.”

It took little thought for her to gather Teddy into her arms and go through the motions of soothing and changing him. Once finished, she carried him back out to the other side of the house. 

“Potter? Oh.” In almost the same position Andromeda left him, Potter sat sprawled on the couch, mouth open and head tipped back, fast asleep. After only a moment of hesitation, she flicked her wand and covered him with a blanket.

* * *

The clattering sound of a pan hitting the floor jolted Harry awake from his position crunched on the couch. It cut off sharply into silence, and Harry tripped over a blanket he must have curled up with in his haste to get to the other room. When he had finally untangled himself, he inched into the kitchen with his wand at the ready, only to discover that instead of the hoard of Death Eaters and Snatchers he was imagining, the room contained only Andromeda, standing very still, with her wand out and her head cocked to the side. 

“Oh good, you're up.” She said to Harry and relaxed her position, before waving her wand and summoning the pan off the ground. “I was worried I'd woken the baby, and I'd only just put him back down.” She put the pan back carefully. “On second thought, maybe no eggs after all.”

Harry glanced around the kitchen a final time before stowing his wand. “Sorry.”

She waved him off. “No harm done. We're all a bit jumpy these days. Some of us never stopped.” 

Harry stood awkwardly for a moment as his heart rate slowed. He watched Andromeda prepare tea and surveyed the room. There was a square breakfast table next to a large picture window that took up the majority of the far wall. An owl sat perched on the edge and seemed to be eyeing a stack of toast on the table hungrily. 

Andromeda set the kettle levitating towards the table. “Please, take a seat. There's toast and tea, and parchment and a quill if you need to write anyone about your whereabouts.” 

Harry sat down next to the hungry owl. He hadn't told Ron and Hermione details about his plan, just that he had something he needed to do. They were all so busy right now, disappearing for an hour or two went practically unnoticed. But to wake up and discover he was gone... Harry thought he ought to get ahead of it. Even waking up with a note saying “Still out, I'll explain later,” was better than no note at all. 

Andromeda sat a moment after Harry and began fixing her tea. “Where are you staying, Potter?” she asked. 

“Grimmauld Place,” he said distractedly while he wrote to Hermione and Ron.

“Number 12, Grimmauld Place? _That’s_ the house you own?” 

“We’ve cleaned it up a bit! Even Kreacher’s better than he was, and he’s usually at Hogwarts now, especially with the repair efforts.” It wasn’t until he looked up and saw her face that he remembered she had once been a Black, too. “Er, if you wanted the house...”

Andromeda shook her head. “No! No. It’s yours. Sirius gave it to you. I may never understand it, but if you’re comfortable in that house, far be it from me to change your mind.” 

Harry stood and tied his letter to the owl on the window sill. He watched it fly off into the distance for a moment before he spoke. “I know it had terrible memories for Sirius. If I inherited my aunt and uncle’s house, you couldn’t pay me enough to go back there, much less live in it. But other than Hogwarts and the Burrow, that house is where my happiest memories are from.” 

Andromeda let out a soft exhale. “For what it's worth, I do wish you had gotten more time with them.”

“For what it's worth, I'd go back to the Dursleys if it would bring any of them back.” He looked over at Andromeda, and quickly shoved a piece of toast into his mouth to prevent more words from escaping before sitting back down. 

“Your aunt and uncle?” Andromeda said. “Yes, I can empathize. Of course, you are currently living in my aunt and uncle's former home, so I am sure you can understand my hesitation to admit the same.”

Harry coughed at the reminder of Walburga Black, and had to drink most of his tea in an attempt not to choke. “Yeah she's—“ He coughed again and took a final sip of tea. “We've been trying to get Kreacher to take that portrait down – elfish magic is probably the only thing that can get that level of sticking charm off – but so far it hasn't worked.” 

“And do you expect it to?” Andromeda asked. Harry felt as if he was being assessed for something, but he didn't know what. Black family or not, she had never looked quite so Slytherin as she did then, like some horrible combination of Snape and Slughorn, but also somehow like Dumbledore. Harry wondered if he would notice if she was using legilimency. 

“Well, he's been a lot better this year, since we started being nicer to him.” He ran a hand through his hair, still embarrassed about the poor treatment of the house-elf. “And also when we found out about Regulus.” 

Whatever Andromeda had been looking for, it was not that. “Regulus?” she asked. 

“He was a Death Eater, but he defected and died trying to destroy one of Voldemort's horcruxes. Kreacher had actually been keeping it in Grimmauld Place until Mundungus stole it and gave it to Umbridge as a bribe. It was actually that horcrux that Dumbledore and I thought we were getting the night he died.” At Andromeda's increasingly baffled expression, Harry cut himself off. 

“He... what?” Andromeda stared at Harry. “How much of that information is out to the public yet? Or even to the Order?”

It occurred to Harry that no, other than the existence of the horcruxes, almost none of the information he'd just said had been covered in any of his many debriefs. There had been so much he'd felt needed to be known, needed to be acted on, that R.A.B. and the cave had been far from his mind. Anyone Harry wanted to tell was already dead, and very few people cared about a boy who had died almost twenty years previously, who hadn't even made anything easier on the living. But if there was anyone left who cared about Regulus Black, anyone left besides Kreacher and Harry who would even want to know, Harry had a feeling it was Andromeda. 

“Most of what we know, we learned from Kreacher, actually.” He started, before explaining everything he hadn’t thought to tell anyone when they asked how Voldemort had died, where Harry had been, what he had been tasked with. 

“That is... quite a story, Potter,” she said when Harry finally felt he had no more words to say.

“It's not just some—“ 

Andromeda held up a hand. “I'm not saying that because I don't believe you. I do. But it sounds unbelievable. Regulus having a change of heart... Well it sounds like the kind of story his parents would start to put the family name in good standing with the winning side.” 

“They would do that?” Harry asked. It didn’t seem that unbelievable when he thought about Lucius Malfoy claiming to be under the Imperius curse, or Barty Crouch pretending his son was dead for thirteen years when they were living in the same house. 

“They did do that. You didn’t think Sirius got thrown in Azkaban because the Ministry cared that much about twelve Muggles and little Peter Pettigrew, did you? No my aunt and my parents were there, telling stories about how even the noble house of Black couldn't contain him. So I do believe you, but telling people that story and living in that house, with your history? There will be plenty who do not.” 

“Wow I wonder what it would be like for people to think I was lying.” Harry said sarcastically. “Do you think they'd start with the Prophet again or just jump straight to toppling the new statues of me?” 

Andromeda cracked a small smile. “Alright, that's enough of you. I'm sure you're very busy with statue modeling, and I'd hate to make you late with only an excuse of dallying over toast.” She stood and waved her wand so that the dishes on the table moved themselves over to the sink and began to wash themselves.

“About what we discussed last night,” Harry said as he moved to follow her out of the room. 

She led him back to the front door but turned to face him instead of opening it. “No, Potter. I will not release custody of my grandson to you, nor will I mistreat him due to my own grief or ill will. However, if you would like to come over tomorrow evening for dinner, you are welcome to get to know him and learn a little more about babies. If nothing else, then to prevent you from having to 'figure it out' at a later date.” 

Harry smiled. “I would like that.”


End file.
